"OY, YOU BASTARD!"

Steve wondered if he'd be burned, if he reached out and touched him. There was something about the man that was immediately arresting. Like a wildfire or maybe a trainwreck, he couldn't help but look. The rest of the office seemed to be of the same mind set, as the paper ball contest had stopped, and everyone was watching the drama avidly as the man stalked to the Colonel's desk. None of them seemed to be surprised.

"Here's your fucking report," The man, having ignored Steve, threw a stack of papers that the Soldier hadn't yet noticed onto Mustang's already cluttered desk, "Sending some lackey to wake me up at the fucking ass crack of dawn! Just because your drowning in paperwork doesn't mean I have to!"

Mustang simply smirked, his attitude seeming to change completely in the presence of what appeared to be his subordinate, "Fullmetal. We have a guest, you know."

The man seemed to glare a moment longer and then whirled to face Steve. The much taller man blinked impolitely, staring at the child stood in front of him. He couldn't have been older than 12 and his height was below average even for that age. His face was angular without any trace of baby fat and he seemed to have been dyed in gold. Somehow in the whirlwind of… Fullmetal's… arrival, he had missed these details.

Fullmetal stared at him, and again Steve was caught. There was deep intelligence in those depths, as well as deep sorrow. Steve would eventually come to understand that some grief never disappeared. Some grief sat heavy on your shoulders, and you just learned how to carry it without letting it weigh you down. Steve didn't know it yet, but Ed would teach him to carry that weight.

But, for now, those eyes pierced right through him. He straightened, suddenly conscious that he had slouched to get a closer look at the boy who stood at less than half his height. Steve opened his mouth but Fullmetal beat him to it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was softer than it had been when addressing his commander, but no less intense. There seemed to be an ever-present growl. Steve blinked in confusion, deferring to Mustang as if he could clear up the mystery this boy presented to him.

"Hey!" The bark in his voice caused Steve to glance down, but his uniform had already been gripped and his feet swept from under him. In one swift move, he ended up on his ass with a snarling face in his. All he could see were golden eyes.

"I hate that look." His voice was even softer, as if only Steve were meant to hear even though they were currently being watched by the entire office.

"What the fuck are you doing? Moping around like everything's over?" There was disdain for him in that voice, something akin to what he heard from Nazis in the war. The boy's looks even vaguely reminded him of a man he had killed once. But there was also something like recognition, something like sympathy.

"I don't give a shit what happened. You've still got two good legs. Use them." His shirt was released, sending him slumping slightly backwards and the boy stepped away, looking down on him now whereas before they had been equal.

"Name's Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. You piss me off, stand the fuck up." And he was gone with a flash of red coat and one last disdainful look, a disapproving voice whispering brother! as the door slammed shut behind him.

Steve sat stunned on the floor, unaware that this was the first step in a long road of recovery. Unaware that his first true friend in this century had just walked out of the room.

Mustang smirked, "I think he likes you."